


Good Old Tropes Ft. Heather Chandler and her Posse of Fuckwagons

by aseriesofessays



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, coffee shop fic: check, deaging fic: check, heather c's a vampire and veronica a werewolf thats the next chapter, heather chandler is a huge bitch but what's new???, heather chandler is an awkward bitch that's what's new!!, i call this: the fuckening, next up??? who the fuck knows???, none of them are going to be resolved i want u to know this, okay yeah theres a lot of.fuckery, that's the alternate title, this is just. a fucknut of tropes, will any of these be resolved!!! absolutely not and also fuck u, you know what the alternate title is better than the real title fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-10-29 11:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10852857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aseriesofessays/pseuds/aseriesofessays
Summary: "What the hell does she eat?""Milk," McNamara responds."Souls," Duke suggests.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> im not sure what the fuck im doing but its big its loud and its happening

Veronica cradles a tiny, shrieking child in her arms, alarm and confusion warring for dominance on her face. A small fist smacks her in the cheek- questions are to be had.

"Why the fuck is Heather a baby," is the first one- it's the most obvious one at hand, and therefore the only one that can't be explained. The little girl does her best, grabbing a fistful of Veronica's hair and yanking hard- which, yes, encapsulates the _feeling_ of the question, but unfortunately none of the answer.

Veronica yells again, and Heather wails, and McNamara laughs until there are panicked tears standing in her eyes.

"Holy fuck," she finally manages to gasp out, and Duke sends her a _look_ because McNamara doesn't curse. She supposes extenuating circumstances allow it, and focuses her gaze back on the baby.

"Uh," she begins, reaching out to touch the baby and yanking her finger back when Heather abruptly stops crying and tries to bite her finger. "Uh, oh my god, I have no fucking clue? Is there any way to put her back? Holy fuck," she repeats for emphasis. "Wow, jesus christ, she's so tiny. What the hell."

Veronica holds the baby gingerly away from herself, staring into Heather's beady little eyes. "God, she looks like a tiny demon," she whispers, mostly to herself- which isn't true, really, because Heather has an absolutely darling red bow in her wispy blonde curls and a sweet little red dress on and murder in her eyes. "What the hell does she eat?"

"Milk," McNamara responds.

"Souls," Duke suggests.

Heather adds her own shrieking response, helpfully. Veronica nearly cries.

\----

"So, what, you found her chewing on your toothbrush?" she asks McNamara for the tenth time that hour. She nods.

"Yeah. She almost took the handle right off." She punctuates her sentence with a wary look at Heather, who grins at her with tiny, sharp teeth. "And I knew it was Heather 'cause- well, mostly because of the red, but also because she tried to punch my knees."

"Demon," Veronica mumbles again- at the moment they've given her a little doll to occupy herself with, and she's banging it on the ground and making intermittent shrieking noises. Luckily her house is totally empty- enormous but without a single hint of another living soul, although Veronica supposes they could be, like, wandering the halls somewhere. There's certainly a lot of halls to wander.

"Oh, I don't think she's a demon," McNamara says earnestly. "She's just a terrifying baby."

Veronica sends Heather a doubtful look, and she could swear the toddler winks at her.


	2. The Fuckening Part Two: Coffee Shop AU style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyones reading this id like 2 say im sorry it felt like a good idea in my head

Heather Chandler is the worst barista ever to barista (bariste? What the hell is the verb form?). She's a bitch to customers, she spills at least six cups of coffee a day, and she flat out refuses to stop stealing the pastries in the display cabinet. Unfortunately, Perkatory Cafe can't afford to let her go- they have two baristas because literally no one else signed up for the job, and Heather is secure in her ill-fitted position.

She hardly even looks up when the little bell over the door rings, examining her nails with a singlemindedness you'd expect from someone in a chess competition- she's going to have to get a new manicure, she thinks her pinkie might be chipped. So absorbed is she in her nails that the customer has to rap on the counter to get her attention.

She snaps her head up with a glare, and the pretty customer quails. Heather's heart does the same, and she panics. "What?" she snarls.

"I want coffee?" the poor girl says, clutching her bag close to her chest like a shield.

Heather sneers, head held high, and tries not to stare. What the hell, she's _hot_ \- in a dorky way. "Well, what do you want _me_ to do about it?"

"Make me coffee?" The girl's eyes are wide and she phrases it like a question. Heather scoffs.

"Not likely."

"But- this is a coffee shop," the girl mumbles, looking terrified. Heather scoffs again.

"God, _whatever_ ," she snaps. "Coffee, coming right up. Like I'm your personal _slave_."

She leaves the girl looking startled and confused, and turns to the coffee machine with a face as bright red as her bow. Holy _fuck_ , what the hell was that? Holy _fuck_. She spins around. "Holy fuck," she tells the customer very calmly, containing her scream- her smile is polite. "Okay, yeah, let's try that again, okay? I got nervous. Here we go, from the top."

The girl gapes. Heather snaps her fingers.

"Can I have some coffee?" she asks, voice weak. Heather beams.

"Of course! And what's your name?"

"Veronica?" God, does this girl state anything outright? Always a question in the five minutes Heather's met her, brutally assaulted her with undeserved rudeness, and switched up her personality entirely.

"Coming right up," she says, scrawling it on her cup and spinning back to the coffee machine. Her heart is in her throat and her palms are sweaty. Holy _fuck_.

"Please don't pay me," she says the second she turns back around, shoving the cup at Veronica. "I've fucked this whole thing up, you're hot for a greaseball, I'm much gayer than I thought I was, and I probably burned your coffee. Bye!"

The bell tinkles as Veronica hurries out, and Heather stares after her, shellshocked. Holy christ.


	3. Sharing a Bed: Check

"My god," Heather Chandler murmurs, pain in her voice and in her eyes. "There's been a mistake- someone fucked this up, I swear to god I'm going to _sue_ -"

"I don't think it's that big of a deal?" Veronica ventures, although the way her nose is wrinkled tells a different story. "Just- sleep on the floor."

Heather gives her a _look_. "I'd rather die," she pronounces with great dignity, "and also you should be the one to sleep on the floor."

"No," Veronica snaps.

There's a standoff.

Neither of them win.

\----

"If you don't get over onto your own damn side I'm going to cut your tits off and shove them down your throat," Heather snarls, kicking Veronica in the shins. Veronica laughs through her pain, sounding vaguely strangled.

"You're taking up two thirds of the bed!"

"Well, I _should_ be!"

Veronica groans. "No, you idiot, you shouldn't. Give me my half of the bed or I'll shove you the fuck off."

"Oh, you'll shove _me_ the fuck off?"

A war ensues. There's no winner, once again, and Heather audibly fumes.

\----

Veronica wakes up with fear lurking somewhere in the corner of her consciousness- there's something she should be remembering, but she can't place her finger on what.

And then she feels it- someone's wrapped themself around her like an octopus, legs tangled between Veronica's. She almost screams, before she catches a flash of red out of the corner of her eye and the scream turns into a strangled choking noise.

Heather fucking Chandler stirs enough to moan softly (what the _fuck_???) and shift, pressing herself closer into Veronica's chest (what the _fuc k_????). She's hugging Veronica like a teddy bear, cheek smashed against her chest and pink lips hanging open. Veronica represses a strangled noise again.

Well. That's one solution to sharing a bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u want a say in what trope i do next shoot me an ask at thepessimisticasshole.tumblr.com


	4. In Which the Obligatory Supernatural Thing Is Covered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "For your Heathers trope thing (which I love by the way, it's beautiful) why not do one about Chandler the vampire complaining to the other Heathers about that annoyingly cute werewolf, Veronica?"
> 
> u got it anon thanks 4 the prompt xx

“She’s just such a _bitch_ ,” Heather complains- her red lips are set in a pout, her equally scarlet eyes examining her long, sharp nails. “Fucking- coming in here, smelling like _dog_ , looking like- fuck!” 

McNamara giggles in a sweet sort of way, covering up Duke’s more malicious snort. “I think you like her,” she sing-songs, and Heather flashes her long, sharp teeth. 

“If you ever say that again I’ll rip your neck out and put you back in the ground where you belong,” she says sweetly, and McNamara ducks her head. 

“Sorry, Heather...”

\-----

“I think I’m in love with Veronica,” Heather slurs, spread out across the floor of their nest- she’s somehow taking up the entire space, even though she’s barely five and a half feet tall and the floor plan is fairly large. 

“You had some bad blood,” McNamara says helpfully, and Duke snorts again. 

“She has bad blood with everyone.” 

“Shut up, Heather,” Heather mumbles, moaning and rolling over onto her front. “I wanna- fuck. _Fuck_. I wanna fuck Ronnie.” 

“But Veronica doesn’t want to fuck you,” Duke sings. Heather’s on her feet in seconds, swaying dangerously and looking high off her ass. 

“Fuck you,” she mumbles. “We’re gonna fucking- see about that.” 

She’s the head of their coven- they’re powerless to stop her stumbling out the door (not that either of them, like, _try_ ).

\----

Veronica wakes up with a heavy weight on her chest. For a second she thinks it’s foreboding, but then the sickly sweet candy smell of vampire invades her nose. 

“God,” she groans, opening her eyes and yelping when she sees a pair of large, ruby-red ones hovering over her. “Jesus christ-”

“Don’t _say_ that,” Heather whines, flinching like she’s been burned- she rubs her head under Veronica’s chin like a cat the next second, apparently forgiving her. Veronica shoves her off. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” she hisses, and Heather blinks at her from the floor. She looks drunk- or high. Can vampires get high? 

“Wanted to say hi, Ronnie,” she purrs, blinking innocently up at Veronica. Her eyes turn imperious. “Also, to fuck you. Wanted to fuck you.” 

Veronica chokes. Heather climbs back up into her lap. 

\----

Heather always gets her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me an ask at thepessimisticasshole.tumblr.com 2 have a say in what trope comes next xx


	5. The Drunk as Fuck Trope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's super fucking Short Im Sorry theyre drabbles tho like...... fucking. get on me to make Not Drabbles 
> 
> prompted by another lovely anon!!! 
> 
> "Okay, so, I just discovered your chansaw tropes fic and my gay ass is dying, like goddamn that's some good shit right there. I was wondering if you'd be willing to do one where it's like they're all drunk and Mac accidently lets it slip that Duke had a crush on Veronica in the second grade, but she didn't know how to deal with it so she just left her a note that said "Get out of my school" one day. Then Chandler is just like, "The fuck? You trying to steal my girl bitch?""
> 
> (side note yes Duke is absolutely trying 2 steal chandler's bitch)

“Duke liked you,” Mac screeches- her eyes are alight with an unholy sort of glee, and Duke hits her square in the face with a pillow. 

“She’s lying,” she says immediately. “She’s a liar, she’s _lying_ -” 

“In second grade!” the words are muffled by the pillow, and she peels it off her face. “And she wrote you a note-” 

“She’s lying!” Desperation enters Duke’s tone, and Heather’s eyes narrow. 

“-telling her to ‘get out of her school’ because she didn’t know how to deal with it-” 

Veronica lets out a loud, braying sort of laugh, totally caught by surprise. “Oh my god, that was you? I fucking-” 

Heather’s eyes narrow even further- they’re a little glazed with alcohol, but still sharp as knives. “Excuse me?” 

Duke pales. “Listen. Listen-” 

Veronica takes Heather’s hand, peppering it with little kisses. It doesn’t dull the shocked offense in Heather’s eyes. 

“Listen,” Duke tries again desperately, only to be cut off by McNamara launching herself across the floor to land in her lap. 

“She was in love,” she sing songs. “In love with Veronica, a little gay baby, she-”

Heather whines with unprecedented strength. “I can’t believe you fucking- tried to steal Veronica when you were a _baby_ ,” she says, sounding injured. “You- fuck you, you’re off the team-” 

“Heather, baby, you’ve had a little much to drink,” Veronica says gently, trying to pries the vodka bottle from Heather’s hand. She gesticulates wildly with the vodka hand, and Veronica gives up. 

“Off the team and right the _fuck_ out of my heart!” 

“It was second grade,” Duke says helplessly. It’s no use. Heather doesn’t talk to her for a week. 


	6. The Superhero AU That Has Just Under The Right Measure of Gay Like It Could Use About A Cup More But You're Going To Eat It Anyway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "For your tropes fic would you be willing to do a superhero au? Like the Heathers are all superheroes and Veronica is their designated damsel in distress. And Chandler is like, the world's gayest superhero. Like they give her an award for it or something, and she's just like, "I'm not trying to be fucking progressive, I just wanna fuck Veronica."" 
> 
> i sure would be willing hell yeah thanks anon

“So how do you feel-” the reporter sticks a mic aggressively in her face, and she shoves him hard out of the way. Like it’s been fucking planned, another immediately replaces him. 

“You _fucks_ , I’m trying to fucking send a piece of shit into the stratosphere,” Heather says, a little desperately. The reporter isn’t deterred. 

“How do you feel knowing that you’re a progressive symbol across the nation-” 

“For the love of fuck,” she mumbles, kicking him back into his throng. 

It’s hellish. The second she gets rid of one, another appears- like fucking villains- all asking her: “Heather, how does it feel knowing that your love for Veronica is inspiring millions?”

She turns, creating a little (tiny, baby) sonic boom that blasts the nearest reporters fifteen feet away. “It feels fan-fucking-tastic,” she says, eyes red with tiredness and just a touch of supernatural glow. “To know that my desperation to fuck Veronica is widespread. Also, fuck the hell off.” 

\---

The second she gets home, Veronica launches herself at her- Heather almost (almost) sends her hurtling into the ceiling in surprise, but contains herself. 

“You’re so romantic,” she squeals, voice overly sugary, and Heather groans. 

“Veronica- Ronnie, I just wanted them to stop talking-” 

Veronica ruffles her hair. “Aww, _baby_ , you know I love you,” she coos. “Spreading our relationship across television-”

“ _Ronnie_ ,” Heather says, sticking out her lower lip like a child. 

“Inspiring baby gays,” she says, forging ahead. Heather groans again. 

“For god’s sake, I’m not trying to be fucking progressive,” she whines. “I just want to fuck you.” 


	7. Why Is JD Such A Creep ft Corn Nut Hazing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "K so I don't know if I did this right earlier, probably not, so I'll try again. I'm trying to give a prompt for Good Old Tropes,, so I hope this works. "JD flirts with an oblivious Veronica, and Chandler gets really jealous and drags her away. Chandler and Ronnie have angry/possessive make outs. The end.""
> 
> hell yeah my anon pal here u go

“Greetings and salutations,” the boy in the black trenchcoat says, and Veroncia shoots a vague smile at him. Where are the corn nuts? What are corn nuts, really? God, she doesn’t think she’s ever been in a 7/11 in her life. She’s more of a gas station store kind of gal. 

“Slushies freeze my brain and make living more manageable,” the boy continues, in a slightly alarming fashion. What is she supposed to say to that? She hums, agreeing, and goes back to her search. _Corn_ nuts. Do they exist? Is this a hazing process? 

“I drink slushies instead of doing drugs,” he adds, and okay, Veronica thinks she should put her foot down. Maybe this is a cry for help? 

“Oh,” she says, looking a little alarmed. “That’s nice.” 

The boy grins, taking a long drink. “Care for a hit?” 

Veronica’s half convinced he has, like, mouth herpes or something. Does that exist? “No thank you,” she says, trying to wander away subtly. 

He wanders after her. 

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a 7/11?”

“Corn nuts,” she answers helpfully. She thinks she’s in the candy isle- they’re probably in the savory part. 

He trails her over. 

“Swanky first date,” and- okay, who says swanky? This isn’t a date, also, which Veronica feels pressed to point out. 

“Uh, yeah, I’m just looking for corn nuts,” she says, a little helplessly. 

Heather chooses the perfect time to honk her Porshe’s horn violently and then come stalking in. She spots trenchcoat kid right away, her eyes narrowing immediately. 

“Veronica, is he bothering you?” 

The kid looks unruffled. “I’m telling her about slushies,” he says, “and how 7/11 is my oasis-” 

“Yeah, cool,” she snaps. “Now, listen, if you don’t leave my girlfriend alone with your creepy fucking- James Dean haircut and cherry slushie, what the _hell_ , I’m going to kick you in the balls. Deal?” 

He pales. “Deal,” he agrees. 

Heather smiles, kisses Veronica rather harder than necessary, and then directs her over to the corn nuts. Veronica doesn’t want to admit how relieved she is. 


	8. Truth or Dare Gets Heated ft Listen I Know This Is Tropes but God Truth Or Dare Really

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ahhhhh! You're the author of the tropes fanfic! If you can can I suggest a sleepover chansaw trope? Thanks! Btw I love your writing." 
> 
> ur right that is me hello 
> 
> u super can suggest it 
> 
> btw i love u

“Heather, if you don’t get up here in five minutes with the corn nuts I swear to god I will tear out your tonsils,” Heather shrieks down the stairs with her customary grace and decorum. 

“Coming, Heather,” Mac says, sounding vaguely terrified- she skips up the steps, dumping the corn nuts in Chandler’s lap with seconds to spare. 

Veronica’s brows furrow as she watches the scene play out, although she can’t honestly say she’s surprised- what else had she expected at a sleepover? ( _Normalcy_? Ridiculous.) 

Chandler flops down onto her bed with all the majesty of a queen, her bathrobe riding up enough that Veronica has to swallow hard and look away. She claps. “Truth or dare,” and- yeah, that’s imperious too. Veronica chokes a little. 

“I’m sorry, are we ten?” 

“Shut up, Sawyer,” Heather says grandly, pointing a red-nailed finger at Duke. “You start.” 

Duke stands to attention, pointing accusingly at Mac. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth,” Mac says, eyes wide- they all fucking jump to each others beck and call, good god. Why aren’t they just normal people? 

Veronica can ignore this for almost fifteen minutes, just absently staring at the bare expanse (and it is a fucking expanse, they’re so fucking long) of Heather’s leg, before Duke throws a pillow at her. 

“Sawyer,” she snaps exasperatedly. “Truth or dare?” 

“Dare,” she says hesitantly. God, she hasn’t played this since she was a kid. 

Duke’s face goes devilish, and she spends a brief moment regretting her decision before- “Kiss Chandler.” 

Veronica goes grey. 

“On the lips,” she adds, with a sort of sadistic satisfaction. 

“Listen,” Veronica tries, “listen. I value my throat, I don’t want it ripped ou-” 

The rest of her sentence is cut off by a pair of very smug, very soft lips. Veronica wriggles a moment before her hands automatically wrap around the person kissing her- their long hair, their silky robe, their- 

Jesus fuck, she’s kissing Heather Chandler. 

“Out,” she finishes weakly when she’s finally released, coughing- Chandler smirks at her, leaning forward to wipe some of her lipstick off the corner of her mouth. 

“Your turn.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they lived a big gay happily ever after the end


	9. Wow It's A Sick Fic ft Heather Loves Veronica but Shows It By Forcing Slightly Expired Tomato Soup On Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "for good old tropes could you do one where ron gets sick and chandler is freaking out and worried because "I don't know how to take care of sick people"" 
> 
> "for tropes please do sick Veronica and chandler taking care of her please and thank you my friend" 
> 
> "Could you do one where Veronica is sick and Chandler obsesses over- uh, I mean... takes care of her." 
> 
> i sure as heckie can!!!! ur persistance is admirable my friend i know i already said that but HERE SHE IS.......... She's not very long but heather is a nerd SO LIKE

"Soup," Heather says frantically, laying a perfectly manicured hand on Veronica's very slightly sticky brow. "That's what sick people like, right? Soup?"

"Baby, I have a cold," Veronica says patiently- Heather waves her away.

"You're on fucking _bedrest_ , bitch, I swear to _god_ I saw you turn white when you stood up. God. Do you even have soup?" She's pacing around the room, wringing her hands- it would be endearing if it wasn't so annoying.

"It's a cold," Veronica tries again. Heather practically stomps her foot.

"For all you know it could be pneumonia-"

"It's not-"

"And I'm going to make sure your lungs are warm-"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works-"

"Damn it, Veronica," Heather shouts, and jesus- she's genuinely worried. "You're sick and dying and I'm making you some soup."

She storms out of the room before Veronica can remind her (again) it's just a fucking cold.

\---

"I think it's supposed to be chicken noodle," Veronica says conversationally around a mouthful of tomato soup. "Like, traditionally."

"You didn't have chicken noodle," Heather says sullenly, spooning another spoonful into Veronica's mouth- she'd insisted. "All you had was this and cream of mushroom that expired in, like, the 70's. Plus, I wasn't letting you eat cream of mushroom, what the fuck."

"I like cream of mushroom," Veronica says, and Heather snorts.

"Of course you do."

Heather absolutely insists Veronica stay in bed, which means she gets the pleasure of listening to her girlfriend bang around the kitchen and swear under her breath at the dishes (and it's probably the first time she's ever had to do the washing up, which makes Veronica unreasonably happy. Her girlfriend is doing normal human things! It's progress).

When she's done, she slinks back into the bedroom and slips under the covers with Veronica, wrapping her up carefully in a hug.

"It's a cold," Veronica reminds her, but fondly. "Just a cold, Red. I'm not glass."

"I don't like you being sick," Heather grumbles, words muffled where her face is stuffed into Veronica's neck. "I'm gonna find whoever gave you this cold and punch them in the fucking-"

"No, Heather," Veronica cuts her off, patting the top of her curly blonde head and suppressing a snort. Is it weird how warm that makes her feel? "Just- let's cuddle for a little bit, hmm? And then it's my turn to take care of you when you inevitably catch it too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *exit, pursued by bears*


	10. Crying in a Bathroom Stall ft. Cat Funerals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(

It's not like Veronica expected to find Heather Chandler crying in the school bathroom- it's not like anyone would ever expect that, because she's Heather fucking Chandler. Veronica had been mostly convinced that Heather didn't have tear ducts, or she'd, like, ripped them out because emotions are for humans and therefore below her.

But Heather Chandler's crying in the school bathroom- _crying_ , crying, rocking slightly in place with her arms locked around her shins and her head buried in her knees, not seeming to care that her skirt has ridden up and her blazer is askew and her mascara's streaking her cheeks. Veronica feels a pang in her heart.

Should she leave? She knows Heather would gut her if she knows she was there, but it seems cruel to leave her to cry. Veronica isn't used to this, acknowledging that Heather isn't really bullet proof.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she clears her throat.

Heather's head snaps up, like it's on a tinge, and- god. Veronica's heart twinges again, and all she wants to do is wrap Heather (fucking _Chandler_ , demon queen of Westerburg) up in a hug, because jesus- she looks pathetic, eyes red and swollen and lips bright from chewing instead of her cherry lipstick, for once.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" she snaps; it doesn't have any bite. Her voice is rough and weak and it hitches, and Veronica sinks to her knees.

"Hall pass," Veronica says, a little helplessly- she raises her arm to show it off, then sets it on the (bathroom- gross) floor and scoots a little closer. "Heather, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," and- there's that venom, dripping from every fucking syllable. It feels watery and fake. Veronica's stomach hurts.

"What's _wrong_?" she insists, and swallows hard when a fresh wave of tears well up in Heather's eyes.

"Nothing's wrong," Heather snaps, clenching her fists, hard. "God, it's fucking- it's stupid. It's just fucking _stupid_."

"Heather, god, just- sweetheart, just tell me!" Heather must really be distraught, because she doesn't even comment on the pet name. Her eyes well up just that bit more, and she wipes her tears away roughly.

"My fucking cat died," Heather says savagely. "Are you happy?"

Her heart drops. "Oh, Heather," Veronica says softly- she scoots a little bit closer, until her and Heather and sitting side by side. "God, Heather, I'm so sorry."

Her lower lip wobbles, and she bites it violently to keep it steady. "It's _fine_ ," she snaps again, voice breaking- Veronica's heart gives a painful jolt. It's _not_.

God, Heather had loved that cat- it was a grumpy old Persian, with a squished little face and pretty white fur that Heather had brushed religiously. Veronica's pretty sure she'd loved that cat more than she loved herself, even though she was careful to keep her secret from the high school. Veronica had met her once, on a sleepover- she was a lazy, spoiled mess of a thing, but Heather had doted on her so much that Veronica had hardly been able to keep the fond look out of her gaze.

"It's not," she murmurs, opening her arms- when Heather falls into them, Veronica's hardly surprised. She just rubs her back, brushing a feather light kiss to the top of her head. "I'm so sorry."

They skip school, and Veronica suggests the funeral so Heather doesn't have to- she scoffs, but her voice trembles, and Veronica insists on it until Heather agrees. She brushes that honey blonde hair out of her eyes when she cries, and squeezes her hand, and hunts through the house for every one of Princess's toys to decorate her grave. Heather plants a fucking flower, and Veronica's heart clenches- god, she's so human right now.

She hopes the next time she can see that, it won't be because of a death.


	11. Omegaverse sort of thing?????????? It's A Small Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ask and ye shall receive also @abo_trash im not trying 2 piggyback off ur fic i was prompted i pinkie promise..............

"I can't believe this," Heather says, tugging angrily at Veronica's hand. "Jesus fuck, I hate you, get off."

"No," Veronica says, nose stuck up in the air. "Absolutely not. You're going to run off again assault a poor omega-"

"I was not assaulting her, I was being nice!" Heather says indignantly, tugging at the hand and whining when Veronica won't get the fuck off. "Listen, you fuck, if you don't let go of me _right now_ -"

She's using her alpha voice, and also she's Heather fucking Chandler, so Veronica should be cowering. Veronica, always one to defy stereotypes, raises an eyebrow. "You were-"

"I was complimenting her skirt," Heather snaps, tone injured- for once, she's telling the truth. "God, Veronica, what's your damage?"

Veronica blushes, just a little bit on the apples of her cheeks- Heather raises an eyebrow, slowly brightening as she gets it.

"Oh my god," she says slowly, her shining teeth baring themselves in a grin. "Oh my god, Ronnie, you're jealous!"

"Am not," Veronica snaps quickly. Heather giggles, a skip suddenly in her step.

"You're jealous," she sing-songs, blonde hair bouncing with renewed vigor. "Jealous of a little omega in a cute pink skirt-"

"Your colors would clash," Veronica mumbles helplessly, brows furrowed in a grumpy frown. "Also, I'm not jealous."

(She's totally fucking jealous.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she's a short girl 
> 
> hey also i made a heathers blog called 'ilovemydeadgaywife' so make sure to shoot asks 4 new requests to ilovemydeadgaywife.tumblr.com and also follow me because im thirsty!!!!


	12. Poly Relationships R Cool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So yknow your chansaw tropes fic, do you think you could do one where veronica is single and heather macnamara and heather chandler both have crushes on her and theyre both like fighting over her and veronicas just really confused and gay"
> 
> hell yeah i could 
> 
> also this is the longest chapter in this series and it's less than 1,000 words why am i Like This

“So, Ronnie,” Chandler says- her red, red lips are very close to Veronica’s red, red cheeks.

Veronica swallows, hard. "Personal space," she says weakly, "we've talked about this."

Chandler doesn't back off, and Veronica could swear she's smirking. Bitch. "We're having a sleepover tonight, m'kay?"

"With the other Heathers?" It's would be casual. She has a sneaking suspicion that she missed her mark.

"Just us," Chandler coos, brushing her lips over Veronica's cheekbone before withdrawing with an impish grin. "Problem?"

"No problem," Veronica croaks, mouth suddenly very dry. "Nope. I mean- definitely not. I'll be there."

Heather's in her cherry blossom robe, ridiculously short, and Veronica feels the whole time vaguely as though she's about to faint.

\----

Veronica's late to her fucking history class, again- she always is, for some reason, like the teacher has any more reason to hate her- when a pale hand slips into her own. She jumps, staring around with wide eyes, and is met with a beam of sunshine.

"Hi, Ronnie!" Mac sings, skipping along beside her without a care in the world, even though the bell had rung almost a minute ago. "You wanna get some ice cream with me after school?"

"Love to," Veronica says, sounding a little anxious. "Except, uh, I have to get to class-"

"Hey, Ronnie, do you want to skip with me and get some ice cream?" She rephrases, giving Veronica an innocent grin. Veronica snorts.

"Demon," she accuses, her pace slowing. "Yeah, sure, whatever- I'll drive." Because Mac can't be trusted around cars, apparently- the single dent in Chandler's pristine Porsche attests to that.

Mac giggles and agrees- and she's still holding Veronica's hand, god. Ronnie can hardly keep the blush off her cheeks. This feels sort of like a date, but sleeping over at Chandler's had felt sort of like a date too, and-

Yeah, okay, Veronica's fucked.

\---

They're everywhere- Veronica hadn't realized exactly how omnipresent they were until she can't walk three inches without hearing their name. The red on her dad's coffee mug makes her blush and the lemon yellow of a pillow she sees at the store gives her a warm feeling in her belly. And they just don't _stop_.

Chandler guides her around her room to 'teach her how to dance'. Mac brushes a speck of food off the corner of Veronica's lips with her thumb, face inches from Veronica's own. Chandler touches up her makeup and Mac straightens the collar of her shirt and both of them hang over her and it's so much but she wants more.

She's never been the most patient of people- one day she just explodes.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she snaps as Chandler leans forward to tuck a strand of Veronica's brown hair behind her ear. It's almost hilarious, how fast she freezes- Veronica doesn't think she's ever seen that startled, deer in the headlights look on the bitch queen before.

A second later Chandler's face is back to its normal coolness, the hint of emotion packed away- just like her room, unsettlingly neat without a speck of dust on the floor. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Veronica whines. "God, cut the shit," she says desperately. "Are you flirting with me?"

"No," Chandler starts to say, eyes wide. "No, of course not-"

"Because I'm a little bit in love with you and you're fucking me up," Veronica barrels on, shaking a little. "And also, jesus fucking christ, _Mac_ -"

Mac turns a brilliant shade of pink. "Listen," she tries, and Chandler glares at her. Veronica hushes them both.

"Was your plan to turn me into a big gay mess?" she asks, trying to keep her shaking under control. "Because it's working. You've done it, congratulations, I'm in love with two whole Heathers-"

Duke, from the other side of the table, rolls her eyes and stands to dump her lunch in the trash. "You're all sickening," she says with dignity. "Call me when you've sorted yourself out."

Veronica hides her face in her hands. "Please just tell me if you're messing with me or if you mean it," she says, sounding a little frantic. "Because, like-"

"I'm in love with you," Mac pipes up sweetly, sounding concerned. "And also- I'd be a much better girlfriend than Heather."

Chandler shoves her. "Shut up, you bitch! I'd be a fantastic girlfriend. Ronnie-"

Duke, returning to grab her bag, groans again. "Jesus fuck, just date each other," she snaps, before storming away. Veronica giggles helplessly, face a brilliant pink. Mac lights up like a Christmas tree.

"Hey, Heather?" she says innocently- Chandler glares.

"No," she snaps. Mac pouts.

"Hear me out, wait- you're hot, Ronnie's hot, I'm cute as shit-"

"You are cute as shit," Chandler acknowledges grumpily. Veronica giggles again, sounding a little hysterical.

"And so what if we did, like- a triangle?" Mac suggests, gesturing a little wildly. Heather groans.

"Listen, just because Ronnie's cute doesn't mean I'm going full dyke-"

"You're gay as hell," Duke interjects, returning presumably for the moral support. "Shut the fuck up and date them."

"Shut up, Heather," Chandler says thoughtfully, scrutinizing Mac and then Veronica.

Veronica giggles.

Chandler sighs. "Fine," she snaps- Veronica swears she can see a hint of vulnerability under all that steel, a touch of excitement. "Fine. Let's try this fucking- triangle."

\---

And they're all fucking messes, but it works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i'm an idiot and forgot to open the ask box on ilovemydeadgaywife.tumblr.com but she's open now and ready for business!!! aka y'all sending prompts in if u want xx


	13. The Dog Fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways i'm a firm believer that chandler has a cat named princess but in this fic i'm making princess a dog 
> 
> "For your tropes fic would you be willing to do one where Duke has this big ass dog and upon meeting it Veronica declares her her favorite Heather, and Chandler goes on a jealous rampage that results in her getting herself a dog in an attempt to woo Veronica?" 
> 
> i'm willing as shit thank u for the prompt xx

The second Veronica walks into Duke's house for the first time she's knocked off her feet and covered in a hefty coating of saliva.

Understandably, she's a little confused- mainly by what the fuck is going on and _why_ \- and it's only when she hears the Heathers giggling that she realizes that, jesus christ, there's a massive dog enthusiastically covering her hair in slobber.

"Holy shit," she manages to gasp out from where she's buried under the dog. "Oh my gosh, who is this? Hi! Hi!" She starts to coos, enthusiastically scratching the dog behind her ears- Duke looks pleased. Chandler looks pissed.

"This is Lemon," Duke introduces her dog cheerfully- Lemon licks Veronica's entire face in one go, and Veronica laughs again, delighted. "She likes people."

"I can see that!" Veronica says, scratching the dog all over and cooing when she wriggles. "Oh, you're a cutie, aren't you? Oh, you're a big sweetie pie! Duke, you're my favorite," she adds, still cooing at lemon.

Chandler fumes.

\---

The next time Veronica comes over to Chandler's, there's a shock waiting for her. A tiny teacup chihuahua lets loose a bark, trotting over to Chandler and jumping until Chandler picks her up.

Chandler does, with a smug grin at Duke- Veronica's staring, starstruck, at the puppy.

"Hi, Princess," Chandler coos, peppering the tiny dog's face with kisses. "Oh, baby girl, did you miss mommy? You did?" Princess barks happily, licking Chandler's cheek.

Veronica makes a small, helpless noise, holding out her arms pleadingly for the puppy- Chandler complies, putting the puppy carefully in Veronica's arms.

Princess licks Veronica's chin. Veronica practically whimpers.

Duke glares.

\---

It becomes a battle. Lemon versus Princess- who will win? Veronica coos over Princess and Lemon alike, scratching their heads and giving them kisses.

"I don't understand it," Chandler fumes to Mac, petting Princess where she's curled up on her chest. "Princess is the cutest fucking dog in the world!" Mac hums absently, patting Chandler's arm. Chandler wrinkles her nose. "And now she should love me," she mumbles angrily.

"What?"

"Nothing," Heather says immediately. Mac gives her a side eye but drops it.

\---

"I'm allergic to dogs," Veronica announces one day, her eyes red and swollen. Chandler exclaims in uncharacteristic sympathy.

"Oh my god, Ronnie," she says, genuinely distressed. "What about Princess?"

"Not short haired dogs," Veronica clarifies, "just, like- Lemon."

"Oh my god," Heather says again, trying to mask her glee. "Do you want to go and cuddle Princess to feel better?"

Veronica sniffles. "Yeah," she says, sounding sad, and Chandler wraps a comforting arm around her waist. She does feel a little bad- Veronica had adored Lemon- but now she's going to be spending more time at Heather's.

Scratch that. Heather doesn't really feel bad at all.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really fking short!!! and not even a trope!!! who cares it's soft it's cute

Heather kind of hates having a girlfriend, because her heart does funny things and her stomach does flips and when Veronica naps Heather can't do anything but watch and love her more than life.

She likes to pretend she's emotionless- who the fuck cares when Mac trips over something at school and grazes her knee, or when Duke pukes her guts out in the bathroom after every meal? She looks the other way when Veronica tugs on her hand at a party, goes off with whichever boy asks first. (Well, she used to. It's a little different now.)

But Veronica does _something_ to her.

She's tucked against Chandler's waist, right now, hands bunched up in her red robe and dark hair spilling across her belly, and _god_ \- she looks so sweet. Heather honestly can't quite comprehend how much she loves her, most days- it's overwhelming, it seizes up in Heather's chest and makes it hard to breathe. Every day is butterflies, hundreds of them, and her world is so much brighter.

Veronica makes her want to be nice. She makes her want to write fucking poetry and sing and be /nice, god, Heather doesn't know how to deal with this. She'd never really thought she was capable of love but then Veronica'd stepped out of the bathroom stall and bailed them out of detention and jesus, she'd been beautiful even then, with her frizzy hair and her ten scarves all bundled up around her neck. She'd been beautiful, and Heather's heart had skipped a beat.

Veronica's cuddled up against her and Heather loves her more than life.

**Author's Note:**

> if u want 2 have a say in what trope i write next shoot me an ask at ilovemydeadgaywife.tumblr.com xxx


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